Tag: easter

Reviving the Heart of a Lady

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year CLeave a comment

Acts 9:36-43

This morning’s epistle lesson is one of a handful of biblical stories where someone, other than Jesus, dies and is raised back to life.

In 1 Kings 17, we read the story of the prophet Elijah raising to life the dead son of a widow. Luke tells a similar story of Jesus also raising to life the dead son of a widow. Mark tells a story about Jesus raising the dead daughter of a synagogue official (Mark 5). And it is John who tells the infamous story of Lazarus (John 11).

In Acts 20, we read Luke’s fascinating story of Eutychus, the only person in the Bible who can blame his passing on a Sunday sermon that went too long!

Bless his heart, as Eutychus sat in a windowsill listening to Paul preach on and on and on and on, the poor fella nodded off to sleep and toppled out the window, falling three stories to his death!

To Paul’s credit, he stopped preaching and immediately ran downstairs. I suppose feeling somewhat responsible for his congregant’s tragic and untimely demise, Paul knelt down, propped the dead body up in his arms and said to the shocked eyewitnesses who were standing nearby: “He’s ok. He’s fine. Nothing to see here! Go on about your business.” Luke tells us Paul then went back upstairs and had communion, while Eutychus, having had his fill of preaching for the day, and maybe for the rest of his life, skipped the rest of the service and went away alive and well (Acts 20).

Now, who here today can believe that you could literally be bored to death by a sermon?

I know. All of you can.

But who here believes that if I so happened to bore one of you to death with one of my sermons, that I possess the power run down the aisle, prop up your lifeless body in my arms and bring you back to life?

No one believes that.

But we do have the new defibrillator now hanging up right outside the narthex ready to go. So, I guess you never know!

However, believing that one has the power to literally raise the dead back to life is no laughing matter. For example, no one would be laughing if someone’s heart did stop during the service, and I called off the one rushing the defibrillator down the aisle, exclaiming: “There’s no need here for science! Stand back! I got this!”

A few years ago, the nation watched in horror as members of a Pentecostal Church in Redding, California, inspired by the raising-the-dead stories in the Bible, prayed over the body of a 2-year-old little girl for five days, attempting to bring her back to life.

So, how should these stories be interpreted? Are they to be taken literally, or should we look for some deeper meaning, some symbolic meaning that is more true, more real, and more prophetic, than any possible literal understanding.

What are we to make of the story of Tabitha, the only woman referred to as a disciple in the in the New Testament, who died but was raised back to life by Peter?

We are told that she lived a life devoted to good works and acts of charity, but then, one day, she became ill and died. Those who had been caring for her washed her body and laid her in a room upstairs. She must have been an important figure in the life of the early church as the apostle Peter was immediately summoned to come to the home to pay his respects. As soon as Peter arrived, he was taken upstairs to the room where the body of Tabitha was lying in wake.

Among those at the visitation were (and I quote) “all the widows” of Joppa. They stood beside Peter weeping, showing off the items of clothing that Tabitha had made for them.

Think about that. “All the widows.” What an impact Tabitha had made to those who were among the most marginalized and disadvantaged in society, those who had been discounted— victims of injustice by being excluded from inheritance laws. They all stood around the body grieving, as their ally, their advocate, and their champion, was no more.

It’s then that Peter clears the room. He prays, and turns to the body and says, “Tabitha, get up.” Tabitha opens her eyes, and seeing Peter, she sits straight up.

What in the world can this mean?

The most obvious meaning to me is that this world needs more Tabathas. The world needs more Tabithas who are committed to good works, to acts of charity, and to defending and caring for the marginalized and the most vulnerable among us.

Heaven doesn’t need another angel, as people like to say at funeral visitations. We need more angels here on earth, specifically angels like Tabitha.

Earlier this week, I overheard a conversation between a local pastor and another man that went like this:

“I hope to retire at the end of the year,” said the pastor, “but I am worried that it may take a long time to find my successor, as there’s not many men studying for the ministry these days.”

The other man responded: “Well, in the interim, do you have some leaders in your congregation who might step up to help lead the church?”

The pastor replied: “We do have couple of young, godly men in the church who I am currently mentoring.” Then he said, “And I have this woman. She’s incredible, a hard worker, very devout and dependable.”

He then added: “If she were a man, I’d want to have her cloned.”

I should have spoken up.  But instead, I just quietly wondered if this preacher had ever heard the story of the church leader named Tabitha.

And then this wave of sadness came over me, as I was reminded of the role the church currently plays in supporting the subjugation of women in our society and is one of the main reasons I may not live to see a female elected President.

Tell me, when you first heard that “nine-year old baby girls need to be happy with two dolls this Christmas,” did you notice that there was no mention of anything boys would need to sacrifice?

Because sacrificing is for the women—those who should forgo a college education and a career so they can stay home where they belong and raise a family.

Today, we hear those in power mocking and discounting women who do not have biological children. The suggestion has even been made that the votes of women who do not have children should count less than women who have children.

Every day, it seems as if we encounter some form of hyper-masculinity that has historically associated with fascism.

In 1930’s Germany, as incentive to keep women in their place, and to keep immigrants in the minority, Adolf Hitler introduced the “Cross of Honor of the German Mother,” a decorative medal that honored “children-rich” mothers of German heritage, excluding Jewish Germans.

The medals came in three classes: the Bronze Cross for mothers of four or five children; the Silver Cross for mothers with six or seven children; and the Gold Cross for mothers with eight or more children.

Six years after Hitler’s medal program was introduced, Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin followed suit with the “Order of Maternal Glory,” also offering three tiers: “Third Class” for mothers of seven children; “Second Class” for mothers of eight children; and “First Class” for mothers of nine children.

Soviet women raising 10 or more children were given the title “Mother Heroine” up until the fall of the USSR in 1991.

In 2022, the Mother Heroine award was revived, adding a payment of 1 million rubles, which is equivalent to more than $12,000.

And now, the White House is considering implementing similar incentives, including payments of $5,000 in cash and a “National Medal of Motherhood” to moms in the U.S. who have six or more children.[i]

I believe it’s important to point out today that Tabitha is never described as a mother. We are only told that she was a faithful disciple, devoted to good works and acts of charity, especially among those who were marginalized and discounted by society.

Perhaps what this country needs is a “National Medal of Justice Doers!” Because what this country needs are more people like Tabitha. It needs more allies, advocates, and champions for the poor, the discounted, and the marginalized.

But what if Tabitha’s story means even more?

What if Tabitha is a larger symbol for our deepest and best moral value of caring for the least of these? And what if Peter in this story, the one who revives this value, the one considered by Catholics to be the first Pope, is a symbol for the church?

What if Tabitha is a symbol of kindness, compassion, mercy, and empathy? A symbol of diversity, equity, and inclusion? A symbol of welcome and belonging? A symbol liberty and justice for all, especially for those discounted and marginalized.

What if Tabitha is a large feminine symbol holding up a light for all those who are left out and left behind: the tired; the poor; the huddled masses yearning to breathe free; the wretched refuse, those considered despicable, regarded as garbage; the homeless; the tempest tossed?

Then, like the Tabitha in Luke’s story, we know today that she has fallen ill, gravely ill. You might say she has a heart problem, is heart sick, or suffering a heart attack.

Her heart has been broken by those who believe character no longer counts.

Her heart has been hardened by sexism, racism, fear, and greed.

Her heart has been jolted out of rhythm by chaos and confusion.

Her arteries have been clogged by the evil forces, the principalities, the powers, and the world rulers of this present darkness.

Hate has put her heart in cardiac arrest.

So, what do we do when the heart of liberty-and-justice-for-all stops beating?

Well, that’s when we summon Peter, we summon the church, we summon all disciples who are committed to the way of love Jesus taught. That’s when we summon all people who have good hearts, to be, in the words of Rev Dr. William Barber, “the moral defibrillators of our time” to shock what is the very heart of our nation! To shock what is the heart of this nation, liberty and justice for all, with the power of love and mercy, especially for the poor, the marginalized and the most vulnerable.[ii]

So, the question that Tabitha’s story beg of us today is this: Do you have a heart? Is there a heart in this congregation?

Do you have a heart for poor people? Do you have a heart for transgendered people? Do you have a heart for immigrants?

Do you have a heart for women? Do you have a heart for mothers who have been deported by ICE and separated from their families? Do you have a heart for the value, the worth, and the dignity of all women, regardless of whether they choose to have children?

Then you have been summoned today. You have been called to be “the moral defibrillators of our time” to shock our city with love, to revive the pulse of our state with mercy, and to raise back to life the very heart of our nation.

[i] https://people.com/trump-team-ponders-incentives-motherhood-birthrate-11719580

[ii] Address to the DNC by Rev. Dr. William Barber, 2016

I Have Seen the Lord!

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year CLeave a comment

John 20:1-18 NRSV

It’s Easter, and all over the world preachers are feeling the pressure to preach the better-than-the-average sermon. All week they’ve been burdened to come up with something insightful, something profound, to say about this story of stories, preferably something their congregations have never heard before. Oh, the pressure!

Each week for a sermon, I write, on average, 1,800 words. This is the number of words that I, with my seasoned homiletical and ecclesial acuity, have deemed theologically and linguistically necessary to bequeath the congregation an appropriate word from the Lord. And on the Sundays I need to be better than average, like Easter, I am always tempted to go a little longer, like upward to 2,000 words or more.

Now, my wife Lori believes that I should be able to write a sermon, and she’d prefer I write a sermon, even for Easter, with much fewer words. But Lori hasn’t been to seminary, I tell myself.

That’s why, by the way, every now and again, I throw in seminary words like “ecclesial” and smart-sounding words like “bequeath”—to convince the congregation, and myself, that I know what I’m doing up here. And we preachers especially like to use big words on Easter!

However, as I prepared for today’s sermon, I came to realize that Lori may be right.  In fact, esteemed professor of homiletics Karoline Lewis, points out that the best Easter sermon ever delivered, and the sermon we desperately need to hear again today, was nowhere close to 1,800 words. It contained 5. Lewis says that the best Easter sermon ever delivered was proclaimed by Mary Magdalene on that first Easter morning: “I have seen the Lord!”[i]

That’s it. There’s your Easter sermon. “I have seen the Lord!” Now, let’s sing a hymn, have communion, and pass the peace!

Now, because I don’t want to be accused of being lazy on Easter, I will attempt to say a little more. But I tend agree with Rev. Lewis that, too often, our preaching, especially on Easter, is just “too much –too much explanation, too much justification, too much rationalization.” She says our preaching is too much expository and not enough experiential. It’s too much illustrational and not enough incarnational. She argues preaching needs to be less performance and more personal, more down-to-earth, more authentic.

That struck a chord with me this week, as I recently heard local colleague make the shocking assertion, that on some days, he has this sinking feeling that God is not in Lynchburg.

Now, that’s a dark statement coming from anyone, but coming from a pastor in this town, it’s especially chilling. Almost as chilling as it is ironic with the vast number of churches in our city.

Last year, one of my guilty pleasures in life was binging the dark TV drama series called “Preacher.” Lori didn’t care for it. I loved it. It’s a story based on a comic book hero, a Texas Preacher, who’s on a mission in Louisiana searching for God who’s gone missing. God just got tired of being God one day, vacated the throne, got on motorcycle, and headed to New Orleans to listen to some good jazz and have a good time. It’s a very dark and rather bloody story about the chaos that ensues when God forsakes and abandons the world. All hell literally breaks loose as vampires, fallen angels, demons, and the devil himself wreak havoc upon the earth.

And my colleague says this is what it can sometimes feel like serving as a pastor in Lynchburg, Virginia. He says he sometimes wants to cry out like Jesus from the cross, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken us?”

Maybe we have had days when we have wanted to do the same.

The lack of affordable housing, the number of people living with food insecurity, the plans to cut spending on public schools and social services, the ugliness on the city council—it can all seem like God has left the city limits.

Just last week, an owner of a new restaurant told me that he recently served dinner to a member of the city council who had the hateful audacity to advise him to refuse service to members of the LGBTQ community.

And then we have the number of people who claim to be Christians or even “Champions for Christ” who support ways that the exact opposite of the way of the inclusive, universal, unconditional love that Jesus taught, modeled, and embodied.

Looking at some parts of our city, we can easily identify with Jesus when he lamented what seemed like the absence of God in Jerusalem, crying: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!”

And you don’t even need to be religious to believe that God may have even fled the country—a nation where people can be snatched from their homes and disappeared to a gulag in El Salvador without any recourse. Bishop William Barber notes: “Like the lynching trees of the South and the crosses of Rome, these public acts of brutality are designed to inspire fear that compels the masses to comply. But we cannot comply.”[ii]

This is why on this Easter Sunday, we need to hear the personal, authentic, first-person, five-word sermon of Mary Magdalene: “I have seen the Lord!” We need a first-hand witness of the resurrection, not a third-person account, confession, or creed.

In these dark, seemingly God-forsaken days, we don’t need to hear the stale and old: “He was crucified, dead, and buried; the third day he rose from the dead…” or “Christ the Lord is risen; he is risen indeed.” That’s nice, that’s good, but these days, we need more.

We need a first-person, eye-witness testimony. We need to hear of a new and fresh encounter. We need somebody to stand up before us today and exclaim: “I have seen the Lord!”

As we demonstrated during our Maundy Thursday service, the good news is that we can easily point out all the places in Lynchburg where we have seen the Lord, where there is resurrection in the midst of ruin; the light of new life in the shadows of death; love, when all that seems visible is hate. There’s much goodness, generosity and compassion in the midst of all the meanness, selfishness and cruelty: Parkview Mission, Interfaith Outreach, Meals on Wheels, The Free Clinic…It would take much more 1,800 words to name all of the non-profits and organizations that are being the hands and feet of the Lord in this town.

 But proclaiming, “I have seen the Lord,” means even more than that.

“I have seen the Lord” means personally bearing witness to the resurrection. It means being a first-person, eyewitness, living testimony of Easter.

In the hateful darkness of a violent world that has rejected the way of Jesus and would crucify him all over again if it got the chance, “I have seen the Lord” means demonstrating that there is another way of being in the world— a loving, justice-seeking, non-violent way that embodies all that is life-giving. It means living and giving and loving and serving in such a way, that when others see you, watch you, listen to you, they say: “Wait one second. Did I just see the Lord?”

“I have seen the Lord” insists that the ways of love will always win over the ways of hate.

“I have seen the Lord” affirms that the way of peace will always overcome the way of violence.

“I have seen the Lord” confirms that the truth of kindness, mercy and decency will always be louder than the con of fear, confusion, and chaos.

“I have seen the Lord” asserts that the voices of compassion will always be heard over the clamor of cruelty and retaliation.”

“I have seen the Lord” is what Gandhi proclaimed when he shared a vision of a world where all of creation and every living creature is revered and respected, thriving in peace and harmony, when all most can see is ecological devastation, violence, war, oppression, injustice, colonialism, and imperialism.

“I have seen the Lord” were the exact words of Martin Luther King Jr. when he preached on the day before his assassination: “I have seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I’m happy tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”

“I have seen the Lord” is a proclamation that neither death by starvation in India, nor death by a bullet in Memphis, nor death on a cross in Jerusalem, can prevent love from winning and justice from coming.

Mary’s proclamation “I have seen the Lord” proclaims not only that a single stone was rolled away 2,000 years ago, but countless stones are still being rolled away today, all the stones that are used to prevent new life from rising: racist stones blocking paths to citizenship; bigoted stones blocking the doors of closets; corrupt stones blocking the power of free speech and due process; greedy stones blocking care for the environment; deceptive stones blocking the truth of science and history; and violent stones blocking any possibility of new life, justice, and peace.

“I have seen the Lord” is the justice those are demanding on the behalf of Abrego Garcia and every person deported unjustly. It’s the defiance of Harvard University, and the cry of all protesting the rise of fascism.

“I have seen the Lord,” when we speak it into our own lives, become words that have the power to roll back all the stones that confine and constrain the possibility that liberty and justice, dignity and respect can be for all people.

But “I have seen the Lord” is so counter-cultural, so counter-intuitive, often defying what we see with our own eyes, that it can be difficult to speak it. Especially to speak it personally, authentically in the first-person, to speak it with faith and conviction. It’s much easier to walk out of this service this morning and recite a third-person creed, “Christ the Lord is risen. He is risen indeed” than it is to honestly say in the first-person, “I have seen the Lord!”

Perhaps, like anything difficult, we need to practice it, and practice it daily.

So, in what places do you need practice it today? In front of what tomb do you need proclaim resurrection today?

What stone in your life needs to be removed today so you can be free?

What’s preventing you today from experiencing the joy of new life? What is blocking you today from enjoying peace, possessing hope, and knowing love?

On this Easter morning, when we walk out of this church building, where’s the first place we need to go to proclaim: “I have seen the Lord!”

Who do we know that may be unable to say it today, but needs to hear it, because they have been hiding in the tombs too long?

Today, we thank God for Mary Magdalene, the preacher of the best Easter sermon ever proclaimed, the good news we all need to hear today: “I have seen the Lord!”

[i] Sermon inspired by the thoughts of Rev. Dr. Karoline Lewis shared in an article entitled: True Resurrection, March 20, 2016

[ii] From The Power of a Moral Opposition: A Holy Saturday Reflection, April 19, 2025.

Being a Friend of Jesus

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year B2 Comments
The actual note that was left by the truck driver in the story.

John 15:9-17 NRSV

This may sound strange, even a bit offensive, but I suspect some of you can relate. I struggle these days referring to myself as a “Christian.” As senior minister of the First Christian Church, part of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), it grieves me that the word “Christian” has been co-opted by folks who espouse the exact opposite views of Jesus, views that are best described as “anti-Christ.”

Sadly, if the word “Christian” is used to describe anything these days, whether it is “a Christian University,” or just “Christian values,” I automatically assume that the school or the values being described are diametrically opposed to the values of Jesus.

Allow me to share a story which illustrates this sad reality.

While I was a serving with the First Christian Church in Fort Smith, Arkansas, there was a teen in the church who was struggling with her gender identity. So much so, that it prompted me to attempt to create a support group for her and other teens who were struggling with the same issues. I contacted a school teacher who was a member of the LGBTQ community who had been attending to our worship services and asked her if she would meet with me to discuss the possibility of her leading a support group. She agreed to meet me at a restaurant after worship that Sunday to discuss it further.

I walked into the restaurant, looked around, and saw her sitting at the bar. I sat down on a stool beside her to her left. She immediately started talking about how she enjoyed the service. After a few minutes of talking about church, she saw a few friends on the other side of the restaurant and excused herself to go over and say “hello.”

It was then that this gentlemen, who was seated a couple of stools over from me, moved over to sit next to me.

He said, “Forgive my eavesdropping, but did I hear you were a Christian pastor?”

When I told him that I was, he began telling me how God must have led him into the restaurant that day. He went on to tell me that he was a truck driver who was just passing through that day. With religious language, he told me how he grew up in church, but had since “fallen away from the church and the from Lord.” But lately, the Lord had led him to listen to these “Christian” radio programs while driving truck, and it was making him consider coming back to church. And how he couldn’t believe he was now sitting beside a pastor at a bar of all places!”

I smiled politely, but I have to admit he lost me as soon as he said, “Christian radio.”

As soon as the truck driver’s meal arrived, the school teacher returned, and we immediately began discussing our vision for a support group to help LGBTQ youth in the city. After we talked for some time, she got up again to say goodbye to her friends who were leaving.

It was then that the truck driver leaned over to me and asked, “You do know what the law says about her don’t you?”

I replied, “What? Arkansas law?”

“No,” he said. “I am talking about the law, you know, the Bible.”

I responded, “Not sure if I know what laws you are referring to, but when they asked Jesus what the greatest law was, he replied, ‘Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.’ And he said, ‘that on these two laws hang all of the laws in the Bible.’”

The school teacher returned to the bar, and the truck driver got up, picked up his plate and drink, and moved back to his original seat.

As we finished our conversation about the support group, we never saw that the truck driver had left the restaurant without saying goodbye. How Christian was that? Before we got our checks, the bartender walked over to us, and asked me if I was a pastor. After the school teacher introduced me as her pastor, the bartender asked I knew the man who was sitting beside me. When I said “no” explaining that we had just met, she said, “Well, he left this note to warn me about you on the back of his receipt: ‘Beware of this guy on your left, my right. He is a demon in disguise.'”

This is just one example of how upside-down Christianity is today. It’s so backwards that when you quote Jesus saying that the greatest commandment is to love our neighbors, Christians will call you “a demon in disguise.”

So, these days, it’s very difficult for me to identify as a “Christian.” When asked if I am a Christian, I sometimes respond, “You know, Jesus was not a Christian. I am just trying to be whatever he was.”

Our gospel lesson this morning may offer people like me, and perhaps like you, some help as the risen Christ says to his disciples: “I do not call you servants any longer. . . I call you friends.”

“A friend of Jesus.” I like that.  These days, I’m liking it better than being a “Christian.” Especially when I read that being a friend of Jesus comes with a stipulation.

“You are my friends,” says Jesus, “if you do what I command you.” And this is my commandment, “that you love one another as I have loved you.”

Author Garrett Bucks, who visited Lynchburg this week, points out that religion is either “about being right” or “it is about love.” I believe what this world needs today are fewer “Christians” who are concerned about who’s right and who’s wrong and more friends of Jesus who follow his commandment to love one another.

Perhaps this is what the world has always needed, for throughout history, there has always been a large number of Christians who, although they claimed to be on the side of Jesus, were actually standing on the opposite side of Jesus and probably believed those who are trying to love like Jesus are “demons in disguise.”

During the Medieval period, Christians, in the name of Jesus, fought in the Crusades against the Muslims. In the name of Jesus, Christians supported the genocide of Native Americans and the slavery of Africans, which literally led to a Civil War. In the name of Jesus, Christians supported the Jewish Holocaust, Jim Crow laws, and still today support racist policies, laws that subjugate the rights of women, and legislation hurt the poor and LGBTQ people.

However, the good news is that there have always been friends of Jesus who have stood with Jesus by faithfully following his command to love one another, proving that the moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends towards justice.

So, how do we know if we are standing with Jesus? How do we know we are friends of Jesus?

Well, whenever we are taking a stand against something or for something, we simply need to ask ourselves, am I standing on this side because of love? Do I have these beliefs because I am trying to love like Jesus, selflessly and sacrificially?  Am I in this fight because I love my neighbors as myself?

Or am fighting for something else? Is it pride? Is it power and privilege? If it is not about love for another, is about being superior to another, more holy, more right? If it is not about love, is it about fear? If it is not selfless and sacrificial, is it selfish? Is it greed?

You really want to know if you are a friend of Jesus?

Well, what do we say when we meet a friend of a friend? “Any friend of his or hers is a friend of mine!”

And who were Jesus’ friends? The gospel writers call him a friend of tax collectors and sinners. Because Jesus was a friend to anyone left out or left behind. That means that as friends of Jesus, we are committed to being a friend to the least of these. We cannot claim to be a friend of Jesus and not be a friend to the poor, to the sick, to the imprisoned, to the underprivileged, and to all those oppressed by the sick religion of the privileged.

And the good news is: Being a friend of Jesus means something else. It means knowing something of what the Risen Christ knows, as the Risen Christ says to his new friends, “I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.”

This is especially good news for those of us living in these upside-down days when Christians call pastors who quote Jesus “demons in disguise.” No matter how dark things seem in our world today, as we were reminded by a prophet named Martin Luther King, Jr., “that is when we can see the stars.”

This Jesus who taught love, revealed love, embodied love, and was crucified and buried for love, is still standing, still teaching, still revealing, and miraculously, still embodying love in the flesh before his friends. This one who was arrested, tried and executed by a deadly mix of sick religion and greedy politics for being a friend to the least, is still living, still free, still loving, still speaking, still inspiring love, because love never ends. In the words of the Apostle Paul, “love [truly] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.”

No matter how dark the world may seem, no matter how loud the voices of antisemitism, Islamophobia, Christian Nationalism and hate are, no matter how widespread the religious hypocrisy, no matter how upside down this world gets, the forces of fear and darkness, even the violent forces of death will never have the final word. Friends of Jesus can keep loving, keep befriending the least, keep standing for justice, keep speaking truth to power, keep the light of God’s love for this world burning, confident that this light will never be extinguished and will one day fully and finally change the world. Amen.

Easter People

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year BLeave a comment

John 20:1-18 NRSV

Welcome to First Christian Church in Lynchburg, Virginia! According to our Facebook page, we are “an Open and Affirming congregation celebrating diversity with a reasoned faith and passion for justice.”

Anyone hear a problem with that? Especially today on Easter Sunday. Of course, I am talking about the word “reasoned.” I know we mean that we are thoughtful, thinking, don’t-check-our-brain-before-entering-the-sanctuary Christians who believe COVID and science is real, dinosaurs existed, the earth is not flat and more than 4,000 years old. But do you think there might be a better word to describe us than “reasoned?”

Because did you hear the words I read before Logan was baptized?

“Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore, we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6).

Now tell me. What about that sounds “reasonable?” I guess we could add something else to it to make it appeal more to reason, like, I don’t know, some words from Thomas Jefferson, James Madison or Lee Greenwood?

Søren Kierkegaard, the great Danish theologian, writes: “Christianity has taken a giant stride into the absurd. Remove from Christianity its ability to shock, and it is altogether destroyed. It then becomes a tiny superficial thing…It’s when the absurd starts to sound reasonable that we should begin to worry.” He goes on to name a few of Jesus’ shocking and unreasonable assertions: “Blessed are the meek; love your enemies; go and sell all you have and give it to the poor.”[i]

If you listen to some of the most popular preachers today, Christianity is not about absurdity. It’s about nationalism. It’s about the freedom to oppress people who live, love and worship differently. It’s about turning back the clock, putting people back in their places, taking away their rights. Instead of being about seeing and loving transgendered people today, it is about ignoring them and hurting them.

Or it’s all about positive thinking. It’s about how to be successful, happy, satisfied, and at home, at work, and at play, in marriage, in friendships, and in business. There’s no absurd talk of answering a call to pick up and carry a cross to love another. No unreasonable talk of dying to self or loving our neighbors as ourselves. No foolish talk about the poor being blessed and the meek inheriting the earth.

Perhaps this tendency to rationalize the gospel has been with us since day one. Just listen to Mary and the way she makes sense out of that first Easter morning when she saw that the stone had been removed.

So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple…and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb…

Of course, that is what has happened. Any reasoned person with a lick of common sense can deduce this. It would be absurd to believe anything else!

“Mary stood weeping outside the tomb..”

Also a very reasonable thing to do in this situation.

As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white…They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”

She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”

“And I do not know…” Here she comes close to the heart of the truth, that she “does not know everything,” that things in this world are not always black and white, but then it becomes obvious that she is still grounded in earthly wisdom, still constrained by human reason and good common sense: “I don’t know where they have laid him.”

When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus

Of course, it’s not Jesus. That would be absurd.

15Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for? Supposing him to be the gardener…”

Of course, he’s probably the gardener. That’s most reasonable explanation.

She says to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”

A rational request, a reasonable appeal.

But the good news is that the risen Christ is continually liberating us from the restrictions of rational thought, reasonable assertions, and all the limitations of human reason!

The Risen Christ is continually breaking the restraints of common sense, pushing the boundaries of human logic. He is continually calling us out of the black and white world that we have all figured out to live in a new realm that many would regard as absurd.

And notice how he is does it. He breaks the barriers of worldly wisdom, the presuppositions that Mary has of what is going on in this world and not going on in this world, by calling her by name.

Jesus says to her, “Mary!”

And for Mary, this is the moment she takes a great stride into the absurd, the moment her whole world is suddenly transformed! This is the moment Mary began walking by faith and not by sight.

In his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes these words:

[Jesus] died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them. From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. 17So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!

The Apostle Paul is writing about a miraculous change that has been wrought in his life because of the change that has been wrought in the world through God in Jesus Christ.

 Paul is saying that at one time he understood Christ with the reason of mortals—as a great teacher, a fine moral example.But now he is able to see in the death and resurrection of Christ, a radical shift in the entire world. In Christ, a new age has been inaugurated. The whole world has been transformed. Just as God brought light out of darkness in creation, God has now recreated the world in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.

This is what the great theologian Moltmann was trying to point out when he said, “We have attempted to view the resurrection of Christ from the viewpoint of history. Perhaps the time has come for us to view history from the viewpoint of the resurrection!”

Paul was saying that when Jesus was raised from the dead, the whole world had shifted on its axis. All was made new.

This is exactly what happened to Mary when the risen Lord called her by name.

When she hears her name called, Mary recognizes the risen Christ, turns and says to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher).

 And Mary experienced a transformation that was so real, that she was compelled to announce it to the world: “I have seen the Lord!”

You know, it’s one thing to experience something that you know the whole world thinks is absurd or foolish. But it takes foolishness to a whole other level when you go out and share that something with the world.

But that is just what people who have experienced the good news of Easter do.

The Apostle Paul once outrageously put it this way:

“The way of the cross is foolishness” to the world. “We proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles.”

That is why on this day of days, when some look at us gathered here, praying, singing, preaching and baptizing, repeating aloud that our Lord is risen, “he is risen indeed,” and they say that everything that we are doing here today only confirms their preconceptions that we are a bunch of fools who have who have lost our ability to reason, we smile and have the audacity to respond: “You have no idea just how foolish we are!”

“How foolish? you ask.”

Oh, as Easter people, we’re foolish enough!

  • As Easter people foolish enough to believe that the only life worth living is a life that is given away.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe the Kingdom of God belongs to the poor, that those who hunger and thirst for justice will be filled.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe the last shall be first.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that all things work together for the good.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that nothing can separate us from the love of God.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that this world can be a better place.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe we can take steps to heal our planet.
  • We’re foolish enough to live in the gray, understanding that not everything in this world is black and white. We can be losing ourselves while saving ourselves, believing there is joy in sorrow, beauty in chaos, hope in despair, and life in death. We can grieve abortions while supporting the reproductive rights of women. We can support law enforcement while believing black lives matter. We can call for a cease-fire in Gaza and pray for Palestinians, while standing firm against antisemitism. We can say free the hostages and free Palestine. And we can preach against Christian Nationalism and condemn a Bible with an American flag on the cover while loving God and country.

And we are foolish enough to take foolish to whole other level!

  • We’re foolish enough to respect the faiths of all people.
  • We’re foolish enough to call a Jew and a Palestinian our sibling and pray for them both.
  • We’re foolish enough to love our neighbors as ourselves.
  • We’re foolish enough to love an enemy, welcome a stranger, include a foreigner.
  • We’re foolish enough to forgive seventy times seven.
  • We’re foolish enough to turn the other cheek, go the extra mile, and give the very shirts off our backs.
  • We’re foolish enough to stand up for the marginalized, defend the most vulnerable, and fight to free the oppressed. That means that we are foolish enough to see our transgendered siblings this day.
  • We’re foolish enough to get back up when life knocks us down.
  • We’re foolish enough to never give up, never give in, and never give out.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that nothing can stop us, not even death.

Because, although it may seem absurd and far from reasonable, we believe somebody loves us.

Somebody came and taught us to see the world in a brand new way.

Somebody picked up and carried a cross.

Somebody suffered.

Somebody gave all they had, even to the point of death.

Somebody rose from the grave.

And that same somebody found us and called us by name.

Let us pray together:

Let the absurdity of the gospel inform and guide our lives.

         Continue to call us my name.

         Transform our lives.

         Fashion us with the hands of Christ.

         Form us with the heart of Christ.

         Shape us with the hope of Christ.

         So that we may live as those who believe in the communion of the saints, the forgiveness of sins and the resurrection of the dead.

As those who live as Easter people proclaiming to all people:

         Christ is risen!  Alleluia!

Christ is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

[i] http://sojo.net/magazine/2007/08/foolishness-cross

He Is Not Here

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Short ArticlesLeave a comment

christian-pro-choice

As I was drinking coffee on Easter Sunday morning, I took the common risk of picking up my phone to scroll through my Facebook newsfeed. One of the first posts that I read was from a friend making the assertion that there was no way one could be a Christian if one did not hold a certain position on the reproductive rights of women.* Of course, this person is not the only friend of mine who has made such statements on social media. I have read countless posts from others asserting that one cannot be a Christian unless one believes “this” or “that.”

Then, I went to church and heard the good news:

“But the angel said to the women: ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here!’ (Matthew 28:5-6 NRSV).

The good news is: “He is not here!”

We cannot keep Jesus sealed in a tomb or behind four walls. We cannot keep Jesus in any little box we construct. We cannot keep Jesus confined to our limited and shallow understanding of the world and this mystery we call “life.”

“He is not here.” He cannot be retained in any enclosed tomb we devise. He cannot be locked up in any particular doctrine, creed or confession we write. He cannot be limited to any political ideology nor constrained to any religious belief.

Yes, perhaps the best news of all is: “He is not here.”

His love is bigger than we can imagine, and his grace is beyond anything we can create. His peace is beyond all understanding. With Jesus, there are no limits, no restrictions, no boundaries. The stone has been rolled away, and “he is not here.”

Then, where is Jesus? From what Matthew has taught us, I believe we know where.

Jesus is with the stranger, the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked and the imprisoned. He is always with the least of these among us.

Jesus is with those who have been ostracized from community. He is with the outsider, the left out and the shut out. He is especially with those the self-righteous have labeled “not Christian” because of certain political or religious beliefs.

The good news is, that no matter what you may read on Facebook, Jesus is always with all of us, “to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20 NRSV).

 

* For my thoughts on women’s reproductive rights read: Why This Christian Pastor Is Pro-Choice: It’s Personal.

Autumn People

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Short Articles1 Comment

Autumn-Leaves-in-sunshine

Christians are fond of saying that they are Easter people. We say we have a spring-time faith. We are about new life springing forth.

What we tend to forget is that before spring can happen, autumn must come. Before new life can spring forth, something must die. Before Easter could arrive, someone had to pick up and carry a cross.

We have many difficult issues facing our country today. According to a recent poll by the Associated Press, only 24% of Americans believe we are heading in the right direction. The status quo seems to be dividing us further, emboldening the hate among us, and leading us into a nuclear winter.

Christians have responded in typical fashion.

Some Christians have embraced the status-quo, for change is too uncomfortable. They have chosen to live in denial with blind eyes, deaf ears and hard hearts.

More Christians understand that our nation is heading in the wrong direction, but they have made the decision to tune it all out and do nothing to try to change anything. They have chosen to retreat into safe sanctuaries to sing about Easter and going to heaven.

However, if Jesus chose comfort and safety, if Jesus embraced or ignored the status quo, Easter could not happen.

I believe the time has come for Christians to rediscover our call to be autumn people.

The time has come to let the old ways of being Christian die. Like the leaves of a tree, we must let our old ways of self-preservation, our old ways denial and retreat, fall to the ground and be swept away.

The time has come for us to pick up and carry a cross. The time has come for us to risk something, sacrifice something, and do something. We must depart the safety and the comfort of our sanctuaries to stand against evil, liberate the oppressed, rescue the perishing, and speak truth to power.

We must be willing to sacrifice something for justice, lose something for kindness, give away something for peace, die to something for love.

For it is in losing we find. It is in dying we live. It is in being autumn people we become Easter people.

Easter People Behind Locked Doors

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year A5 Comments
Andrew Finiish
As a Special Olympian, Andrew has run in many 1 mile “fun runs,” but he has always dreamed of finishing a 5k race. However, Down’s Syndrome and surgically-reconstructed knees have made it impossible. The good news is Easter transforms impossibility into reality.

1 Peter 1:3-9 NRSV

It’s the Season of Easter. The Lord is Risen. Christ is alive! Jesus is on the loose. The Messiah is on the move. And he’s coming for his disciples! He’s coming to offer them an incredible gift!

As our Epistle Lesson testifies:

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…” (1 Peter 1:3).

And where are the disciples?

The first verse of our gospel lesson this morning reads: “When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked…”

Jesus is alive. He is moving out in the world, and the disciples are inside a building, cowering behind locked doors.

Now, it is nighttime, a dangerous time in any city, and here in the city of Jerusalem on this night, maybe they had a good reason or two to lock their doors.

The most obvious reason being their fear that the religious leaders who organized to crucify Jesus would soon be coming after them. The ones who began plotting from the very beginning to put an end to Jesus and his message were quite possibly even now plotting to put an end to them.

So, who could blame them for locking the doors.

But then, there may be have been another reason those doors were locked.

Remember, Mary Magdalene has told them, “I have seen the Lord.”

And what do the disciples do? They lock their doors.

Could it possibly be that they did not know what kind of gift the Risen Christ was bringing to them: a new birth into a living hope through his resurrection?

Or could it be that they knew exactly the kind of gift Jesus was bringing?

After all, they were all witnesses to what had to taken place before Easter could happen: Before a new birth into a living hope could come, somebody had to pick up a cross.

So Jesus might be coming with the promise of new birth into a living hope, but before this new life can fully realized, there might be some more cross bearing to do.

And this was certainly no new concept for them. For they had heard Jesus say on numerous occasions: “to gain one’s life, one must first be willing to lose one’s life.”

They had heard Jesus say, the road to rebirth, the way to new life, the route to resurrection, the path to Easter, was very narrow and very few find it. For it’s a road of self-denial. It’s a way of self-expenditure. It’s a route of sacrifice. It’s a path of suffering.

So, when they heard that Christ was on the loose and he was coming with the promise of new birth into a living hope through his resurrection, of course they locked the doors.

Just like we lock our doors.

And my, my: The locks that we use! The barriers we create! The walls we build!

His way is just so radical, so revolutionary, so scandalous, we do all we can do to shut him out.

“I know Jesus said that he is ‘the way, the truth and the life,’ but we still prefer to do things our way, make up our own truth, live our own life.”

“I know Jesus said, ‘Blessed are the poor,’ but isn’t that the Salvation Army’s job?”

“I know Jesus never excluded anyone, but perhaps we ought not advertise that.”

“I know Jesus said ‘the first shall be last,’ but I still think we should put America first.”

“I know Jesus called women to be his disciples, and I am aware that whenever he had an opportunity, he elevated the status of women, but they really shouldn’t serve behind the table or preach behind a pulpit.”

“I know Jesus stopped the self-righteous from throwing rocks at a sinner, but if we are not careful we are going to make our church ‘a haven’ for all kinds sinners.”

“I know Jesus said that when we welcome the stranger we welcome God, but ‘pardon me, I believe you are sitting in my pew.’”

“I know Jesus said ‘forgive seventy times seven,’ but the Bible says those people are abominations!”

“I know Jesus said we could learn from Syrophoenicians and Samaritans, and he said, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’ but surely he did not mean for us to love our Muslim neighbors!”

“I know Jesus said ‘there are other sheep who do not belong to this fold and we must bring them in also,’ but ‘You’re not a member of this church. So, what are you doing here?’”

“I know Jesus said feed the hungry, but we have to be fed too.”

“I know Jesus talked about being salt for the world, but are we going to let those people use our salt…and our pepper…and our sugar… and our sweet ‘n’ low?”

I want to suggest that it wasn’t just great fear that caused the disciples to lock those doors. It was also great courage.

For it takes some incredible nerve, some brave audacity, some serious brass, to lock the Risen Christ out of the building.

And sadly, ever since that first Easter evening, people who claim to follow the way of Jesus have been brazen in their attempts to thwart the way of Jesus.

Think about it. We have to be pretty bold to dare to reduce the meaning of the death-defying power of the resurrection. We have to be pretty brave to call ourselves “Easter People” and then water down the meaning of it.

I am grateful that church pews all over Enid were full last Sunday. However, I am afraid that the only reason many people came to church was merely to thank God that they, like Christ, will one day be resurrected to live forever. I am afraid the reason some church pews were so full on Easter Sunday was simply because “Easter People” wanted to remember Jesus’ resurrection and look forward to their own.

But if that is all Easter truly means, do you really believe those disciples would have locked those doors on that first Easter Sunday?

No, those doors were locked, because those disciples knew exactly what Easter means. They knew that Easter means the resurrection offers a living hope for this world, and not just for the next world. Easter is something to be lived today and freely shared with all who need re-birth and new life now.

But to do that, to offer that Easter hope to others, to truly live as Easter people, means that someone is going to have to pick up a cross.

It means that someone is going to have to deny themselves. It means someone is going to have to lose themselves. It means someone is going to have to open a door, leave a building, remove a barrier, tear down a wall, go outside, bend down to the ground, pick up a cross and walk in the steps of Jesus.

It means someone is going to have to share. It means someone is going to have to sacrifice. It means someone is going to have to suffer. It means someone is going to have to do something more than study a lesson, sit on a pew, sing a hymn and listen to a sermon.

So, the disciples, like you and like me, locked the doors.

Now listen to the good news:

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked… Jesus came and stood among them.”

The good news is that the doors we lock, the barriers we create, the walls we build, will not thwart the way of Jesus! Despite our bold and brazen attempts to stop Jesus from coming, to shut him out, he’s still coming. And nothing is going to stop him or even slow him down.

And he is coming to lead his Easter people get out of the building, to pick up a cross and bring rebirth and new life to all whose lives have been diminished, to all those who have been de-humanized by poverty, disability, bigotry and hate.

And here is some really good news: To bring new life, by the grace of God, we may not have to hang on that cross. We might not have to shed any blood. We may not even have to get arrested. We just need to be willing to pick up a cross and carry it a little way. The Risen Christ will carry it the rest of the way.

Running 3.1 miles is nothing for Gary Hula. Gary has been running 26 miles before church on Sunday for the last several weeks in training for the Oklahoma Memorial Marathon. Gary can run 3.1 miles while reading the News and Eagle and drinking a cup of coffee!

But that is how far Gary usually runs while pushing someone with special needs for Ainsley’s Angels.  Just 3.1 miles. Takes Gary 20 minutes.

But after a 3.1 mile race last week, the mother of the 26-year-old man with surgically reconstructed knees and Down’s Syndrome, who rode in a running chair that this church purchased for just a few hundred dollars, said and I quote: “My son’s dreams have come to life.”

Can you hear the resurrection in that statement? Do you hear Easter in that mother’s voice?

The next day the risen Christ came and helped us to welcome some of the most impoverished people in this community for a meal in our Fellowship Hall. Now, we didn’t do that much. The Oakwood Country Club prepared all the food. All we had to do was warm it up and put it on some plates. We just had to show up, unlock a couple of doors, and invite people in. We just had to be kind to people, treat people as we would want to be treated.

But after serving that meal, one of the guests said to a volunteer: “Today, you have made me feel human again.”

Do you hear the rebirth in that statement? Do you hear the new life? Can you hear Easter in that woman’s voice?

The good news is that because the Lord is risen, because Christ is alive, because Jesus is on the loose in this world, because the Messiah is on the move, all we may have to do to be the Easter people the Risen Christ is calling us to be is to be willing to unlock a door.

Easter People

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Short ArticlesLeave a comment

Welcome Table

The Easter Sunday timing of the Enid Welcome Table’s debut could not have been more appropriate.

The front doors of the church building swung open wide, as guests, some homeless, some extremely impoverished, all hungry, were greeted with smiles and words of welcome. As they walked into the fellowship hall, a host guided them to a table that was beautifully decorated with an Easter-themed table cloth and a spring flower bouquet centerpiece. Soft jazz  played from the sound system adding to the welcoming ambiance.

After the host fulfilled the guests’ drink orders, a waiter approached the table to read the menu that was displayed on the TV monitors in the front of the room. Guests had a choice between pork tenderloin, peel-and-eat Cajun jumbo shrimp, and baked chicken. Sides included sweet potatoes, roasted potatoes, a medley of roasted vegetables, macaroni and cheese, and deviled eggs. Desserts included lemon cake, cherry pie, apple pie and chocolate cupcakes.

The attentive wait staff promptly served the guests with generous portions and while keeping their drink glasses full.

Volunteers who had come to serve, some members of our church, some members of other churches, some members of no church, joined the guests at the tables to share dinner and conversation.

Upon experiencing the extravagant welcome, a genuine welcome devoid of any agenda, strings, or ulterior motives, one of the guests said to a volunteer: “You have made me feel human again.”

“You have made me feel human again.”

Let that sink in.

It was Easter Sunday, and someone said that she felt alive again. It was Easter Sunday, and someone said that she experienced new life. It was Easter Sunday, and someone said that they felt resurrected.

Christians often like to call themselves “Easter People.” However, I am afraid that what that means to many is that they, like Christ, will one day be resurrected to live eternally in heaven. I am afraid the reason some church pews are so full on Easter Sunday is simply because “Easter People” want to remember Jesus’ resurrection and look forward to their own.

However, what if being “Easter People” means something more?

What if the resurrection is not just a gift to remember or a gift to look forward to, but a gift to be experienced now? What if resurrection is a gift to be shared with others today? What if being “Easter People” means that we are people who offer the gift of resurrection to those whose lives have been diminished by the sin and evil in our world? What if being “Easter People means we are called to resurrect those who have been de-humanized by poverty, racism, classism, sexism, homophobia, or xenophobia?

What if being “Easter People” means that we are called to do much more than sit on a pew on Easter to thank God for the promise of God’s kingdom that is coming after the resurrection? What if being “Easter People” means that we are called to get off of those pews to bring the promise of God’s Kingdom that is coming now to those who need resurrection today? This Easter Sunday at Central Christian Church, that is exactly what being “Easter People” meant.

Remember Your Baptisms!

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year ALeave a comment

Baptism

Romans 6:1-5 NRSV

I love a baptismal service on Easter Sunday morning! I love it, because I believe one of the greatest things we can do on Easter Sunday morning is to listen again to the words of the Apostle Paul that are etched onto our baptistery, and remember our baptisms!

As a pastor who has been blessed with the opportunity to remember many baptisms, I will never forget one particular Sunday I walked into the waters of a baptistery like ours.

It was the Sunday after Hurricane Floyd flooded the first house Lori and ever purchased in eastern North Carolina.

I had been wading in waist deep water that Thursday and all day Friday. And then that Sunday morning, one of the first things that I did was to climb down those steps into waist deep water.

I’ll never forget the first words I spoke.  I looked out into the congregation from that baptistery, and I said, “You know, standing here this morning in waist deep water is the last place I wanted to be this morning.”

But I then said, “But it may also be first place I need to be this morning!”

Before that Sunday, baptismal water had always represented purity and refreshment to me. It was a water which cleansed one’s spirit and refreshed one’s soul. It was a renewing, invigorating water, life-giving water. Baptismal water was to me like the water from a spring welling up into eternal life from which we could drink and never thirst again.

However, on that particular Sunday, that water came to represent to me something more, something dreadful, something heinous, something sinister. That water came to symbolize destruction, despair; it came to symbolize death.

To the church in Rome, the Apostle Paul said: “Remember that you have been buried with Christ by baptism into death.”

You know what this means don’t you?  It means Paul’s house must have flooded too!

Well, probably not. But it does means that Paul understood the destructive forces of sin and evil in our world. It means the apostle Paul understood water to be symbolic of of those chaotic forces, evil forces in our world that seek the drain the very life out of us.

For many of that day, water was a very fitting for symbol for death, as many lost loved ones at sea, folks who who traveled out on the water, encountered a storm and never returned. Therefore, water was something to fear. Water was something to dread.

This is why the picture of Jesus walking on water is so inspiring.  Jesus was doing much more than walking on water. Jesus was walking all over the forces of evil like they did not even exist.

This is why when John gives a list of things which we are not going to find in heaven in the 21st chapter of Revelation, “no more sea,” is the first thing on his list. Before no more crying, no more pain, and no more mourning, John says there will be no more sea. One day there will be no more of anything more to fear or dread.

My hope on this Easter Sunday is that Braylen, Brenden, Ethan, Caden, Ashton, Rhianna, Brooke and Angie will always remember their baptisms—Remember that they who have been buried with Christ into death, have also been raised with Christ to walk in the newness of life.

And may each of us remember our baptisms. May we remember that we went under the water, but may we especially remember that we also came up out of that water.

We came out of the water symbolizing that in this world of evil and sin, with Christ we can be more than conquerors.

We came up out of the water symbolizing that in spite of those who attempt to drain the very life of us, in spite of those who never cease in persecuting us, we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.

We came up out of the water symbolizing that despite the many storms of life that come our way, death, divorce disease, there is nothing in all of creation: no rulers, no powers, no things present, no things to come, no height, no depth and not even death, that will ever be able to separate us from the love of God through Christ Jesus our Lord.

We came up out of the water symbolizing that in all things, God works for the good for those who love God and are called according to God’s purpose.

We came up out of the water symbolizing that when we face uncertain days, even death, we will possess the grace to always remember our baptisms and the glorious message of Easter that our baptisms proclaim!

Sudden Sunday Surprise

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year ALeave a comment

He is not here

Sermon preached at the Easter Sunrise Service, Central Christian Church, Enid, Oklahoma.

Matthew 28:1-10 NRSV

There is no doubt that the surprising events which took place on Friday had left the disciples in a state of shock and disbelief.  The King of the Jews, the Son of God, the one who would finally bring them liberation from the Romans was crucified like a common criminal.  They were all taken off guard as all of their hopes, all of their dreams suddenly vanished.

They found themselves in the same state of mind you and I find ourselves when our lives are often surprised by evil.  When the telephone rings in the middle of the night.  And it is not the wrong number.  When we hear words from our employers like “cutting back, laying off, letting go,” or words from our doctors like “cancer, inoperable, terminal.”

 “No, it can’t be!”  “I don’t believe it!”  “This is not happening!”

Then as Sunday morning was dawning, maybe not part of the original twelve because of the sexism that has been so apparent in the history of humankind, but two of Jesus’ disciples nonetheless, Mary Magdalene and another Mary went to see the tomb, trying to comprehend what had happened, still trying desperately to believe it and somehow accept it.

And then it all seemed to happen again.  For that is how evil works in our world. When evil surprises us it does it in clusters. Some people say that it always comes in three’s. Other say, “when it rains pours.”

And suddenly, suddenly a word which always denotes surprise, shock and awe: there was a great earthquake.

“Not again!”  ‘Please no more.  There is just so much we can stand.”

But then in the midst of their confusion, shock, and bewilderment, an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it.  It so surprised the guards at the tomb, that they fell down on the ground like dead men.

But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. For he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then, go quickly and tell his disciples. “He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.  This is my message for you.”

“So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy.”  There’s a paradox, isn’t?  Fear and joy. It lets us know that the women are still somewhat shocked. For they have been saturated with surprise!

Then, “Suddenly,” (there’s our surprising word again).  “Suddenly, Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!”  Surprise of all surprises!  “And they came to him,” and did the only thing they could do, “They took hold of his feet, and worshiped him.”  Then Jesus said, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Hold on!  I thought the women were in Galilee. For that is what the angel had said, “He is going ahead of you to Galilee, there you will see him.” The angel even bolsters these instructions by saying, “This is my message to you.” But where do they see Jesus?

They see Jesus somewhere along to road to Galilee.  The angel was wrong.  For the women did not have to wait to see Jesus.

I believe this is even more good news for us on this early Easter morning.

If angels do not know exactly when or where Jesus will appear with a presence and with words that compel us to take a hold of his feet and worship him, how can any of us presume to know?

Therefore, we should never be despairing, that is, we should never believe that things have gotten so bad Jesus will not come.

The wonderful truth is that when our lives are suddenly surprised by evil, Christ will always come, perhaps when we least expect it, maybe when we are least aware of it, and surprise us with words of love, words or peace, words of grace, words of assurance and words of salvation.

If we keep our eyes peeled to it and our hearts open to it, Christ will suddenly catch us off guard with his wonderful, hopeful, life-giving presence.

And we must never forget that since we are his followers, since we are called to be the Body of Christ in this world, we are commissioned to surprise all those who need surprising with the astounding love and amazing grace of God.